


A Thousand Forevers

by IneffableHusbands95



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angel that Swears, Blow Jobs, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Declarations Of Love, Experienced Crowley, First Kiss, First Time, Jealous Crowley, M/M, No but really he's super JEALOUS, Porn With Plot, Temper Tantrums, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Virgin Aziraphale, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 03:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableHusbands95/pseuds/IneffableHusbands95
Summary: After averting Armageddon the friendship between Aziraphale and Crowley hasn't developed as the angel had hoped. When an opportunity arises Aziraphale takes matters into his own hands, resulting in a very jealous Crowley and a first time six thousand years in the making.Shameless smut with a little fluff  and angst mixed in for good measure!





	A Thousand Forevers

**Author's Note:**

> A million celestial thanks to my amazing beta Cacilie_Blaas for all her help-this fic wouldn't be what it is without her!  
> Many thanks as well to EchoSilverWolf for her suggestions when the fic was still in its early stages.  
> I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

It had been two weeks since Armageddon had been successfully averted, and Aziraphale was getting frustrated.

Though his bookshop had been restored and was perfectly liveable once more, he had followed Crowley back to his flat after the world had been saved and simply never left.

It had seemed a logical step that they occupy the same space.

After all, they were on their own side now so there was nobody to stop them, and living together just seemed to make sense.

Crowley had allowed him to bring in as many books as he could fit, leaving the flat an odd sight; books piled from floor to ceiling and plants covering every other free space.

However, though part of Aziraphale had hoped that living together would finally turn their six thousand year friendship into something more, the demon appeared just as oblivious to Aziraphale's feelings as ever despite dropping a myriad of subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) hints.

The angel was starting to lose hope. It was Sunday and he had been paying for his weekly copy of the Celestial Observer when a stack of flyers caught his eye advertising that a revolutionary new mortal therapy company specializing in platonic cuddling services was taking applications for 'Cuddle Therapists' based in the Soho area.

Thinking it bizarre and amusing he took one, folding it into his pocket to take with him on the lunch he was about to attend with Crowley.

Crowley had selected a ludicrously expensive restaurant despite having no intention to actually eat, and when Aziraphale arrived the demon wasn't difficult to spot.

Aziraphale needed only follow the smitten stares and fluttering eyelashes of a dozen mortal women (and men) directed at an oblivious Crowley, whose attention was instead focused on trying to flag down a waiter for what looked like the next of several already empty glasses of scotch.

The angel was very much used to the way people lusted after Crowley after six thousand years, but it still delivered the same sting regardless, like salt poured onto his wounded heart.

But, as he always had, he brushed it off and moved on, adding it to his collection of invisible scars.

“I see you've brought out the spring colours” Aziraphale grinned as he took his seat opposite the demon, gesturing to the grey outfit Crowley was sporting.

Crowley looked up from his drink and rolled his eyes.

“Hello Angel. Nice to see you too.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat.

Why did the demon always look so intolerably _good_ when he did that?

“What have you been up to Crowley? You haven't been home in a week or returning my calls until today. I was starting to...worry.”

That was an understatement if ever there was one.

Aziraphale had practically gone mad with fear that something awful had happened to him, finding himself alone in the flat day after day, prized plants wilting and covered in usually forbidden leaf spots.

He had half convinced himself the demon had finally done something truly _stupid_ and gotten himself discorporated.

An undecipherable flicker of emotion ghosted across the other man's features, so brief that Aziraphale was almost sure he had imagined it.

“Well finding myself without a job to do has left me rather...bored Angel. I've been rather preoccupied doing a spot of- what is it mortals call it? Soul searching?”

Aziraphale snorted.

“I don't suppose that this soul searching happens to have taken the form of getting drunk off your wings in a string of grimy night clubs Crowley?”

“Strip clubs actually, but gold star for the impressive guess Angel.”

Aziraphale tried his best to laugh and offer up his most convincing smile, but found it incredibly hard to appear disaffected in the face of Crowley's blasé reaction to leaving him in the lurch for so long.

Was the demon truly so clueless about just how much he meant to him?

“Well I am glad you are alright, dear boy.”

Something dug into Aziraphale's side as he sighed, making him suddenly remember the flyer for the cuddling therapy that he had shoved into his coat pocket.

“You wouldn't believe what I found today, Crowley” he laughed, smoothing out the crumpled slip of paper and handing it over.

The demon lifted his sunglasses onto the top of his head, and Aziraphale tried not to stare too long at the sight of his hand gliding through his mop of flaming red hair.

“This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever seen! You mean to tell me humans pay to flop all over each-other and 'cuddle' just to make them feel better about their miserable existences?” Crowley chuckled, tossing the flyer back at him.

It was right then, in that moment, that the idea hit Aziraphale.

Thank _heaven_ there were no sides anymore because he was quite sure that Gabriel would have kidnapped him and turned his wings into cushion stuffing by now if there were.

“It would appear so, yes. I suppose then that you would find it even more ridiculous if I were to tell you that I have accepted the position?” he lied.

Crowley choked and spat a mouthful of scotch at him, leaving him to wipe his dripping face with a napkin.

“What on earth would posses you to do such a thing Aziraphale? This is obviously just your weird angelic attempt at humour. Someone ought to teach you how to tell a proper joke Angel” Crowley laughed, shaking his head.

Either it was just Aziraphale's imagination, or Crowley looked... _agitated._

“No, I am afraid I am quite serious Crowley; I have a session with my first client tomorrow evening. You aren't the only one who has been bored in the face of unemployment my friend.”

The demon stared at him for a long moment, unblinking.

“Well I would say that you have finally lost your marbles Angel, but who am I to judge?”

Though Crowley had done a commendable job of feigning his usual disinterest, Aziraphale saw right through it.

“So you don't mind then?” he probed, one eyebrow raised.

Crowley shrugged and shook his head.

“Why should I care? Do as you please, Angel.”

Aziraphale smiled to himself.

By six o'clock the next evening Aziraphale had finished dressing himself in the most striking outfit he possessed (which wasn't saying much), and was pointedly adjusting his hair and bow tie in the mirror, Crowley's piercing yellow gaze burning into his back.

“Well, I better be off-wouldn't want to keep my very first client waiting!” he eventually announced when he felt he had tortured Crowley for long enough, turning to face the demon who was pretending to look busy watering his plants but squeezing the trigger a little too aggressively.

“Yes, I suppose you had better. Enjoy the smelly mortal, Angel” Crowley mumbled before returning his focus to watering a plant he had already watered twice.

Grinning to himself Aziraphale strode out the door and made his way to his bookshop.

Once he had arrived at the antique book shop he closed the door behind him, hanging the closed sign in the window.

The only customer that would be welcome at such a late hour was the man he had strategically announced to be the convenient winner of a 'private after hours shopping spree' the evening before.

This did of course mean that he would be parting with a number of his precious books for far less than what they were worth, but the sacrifice was worth it.

Twenty minutes later his guest arrived, and begun perusing the shelves.

Now all that was left to do was wait for Crowley. He knew the demon far too well.

Around an hour past the time he had told Crowley he would return he heard the familiar rumble of the Bentley.

Leaving the back room he joined his visitor amongst the shelves.

He made sure he was in plain view of the well lit shop window before offering a well timed hug, thanking him for stopping by, and watched out of the corner of his eye to see how the demon would react.

But to his dismay after witnessing the display Crowley crossed the street and approached his guest's car with some sort of knife.

The demon wasted no time, grunting angrily as he slashed and stabbed at the poor mortal's tires.

When he was finally satisfied with his handiwork Crowley glowered one last time at the store before getting back into the Bentley and speeding off into the night, leaving Aziraphale standing in the window cringing.

That response was not what he expected.

Though his reaction had been promising, after using a discreet miracle to repair the slashed tires he waited another whole hour for maximum effect before he finally returned to the flat, casually letting himself in and tossing his coat over a chair as though nothing was amiss.

“Aziraphale.”

Before he could even turn around he was grabbed by the collar and slammed into the wall with so much force that if he had been human he would probably now be sporting a broken spine.

The gasp of surprise he released at the impact was cut short by the lips of a very wild eyed Crowley crashing into his.

At first Aziraphale's own remained stiffened by shock at the onslaught, but took only moments to recover.

His shaky hands slipped into the same shock of flaming locks that he had been dying to touch for thousands of years as they attacked each other's lips, earning him a groan from Crowley that he returned when the demon's own hands gripped onto his hips hard enough to leave bruises.

Crowley slipped a hand into Aziraphale's back pocket and squeezed his ass, using the gasp he made as an opportunity to slip his tongue into the angel's warm mouth.

Aziraphale's entire body felt like it was engulfed in the fires of hell like it had been mere weeks ago, only this fire burned far hotter.

For a few moments they remained that way, panting as they licked into each other’s mouths.

Despite Aziraphale's refined taste buds he was convinced nothing had ever tasted better than Crowley's scotch tainted mouth.

They slowly pulled apart, still clinging to one another as though their immortal lives depended on it.

“What was that for?” a breathless Aziraphale asked, unable to hide his grin.

“Isn't it obvious Aziraphale? The thought of you lying next someone else, touching them, absolutely killed me. Nobody gets to do that except me- I won't allow it. You belong to _me_ Angel" Crowley snarled, trembling with emotion.

The words that he had been waiting so long to hear sent a wave of delicious pleasure down Aziraphale's spine, Crowley's lips claiming his again with renewed vigour before he could respond.

One of Aziraphale's hands found its way inside Crowley's shirt, gliding over every last defined muscle as it slid up his chest.

Crowley hissed and grabbed Aziraphale's legs, lifting him up and wrapping them around his waist as he backed them through the flat into his bedroom, his lips never leaving Aziraphale's mouth.

He stumbled his way over to the huge black bed that took centre stage in the middle of the room, throwing Aziraphale roughly down onto it.

Aziraphale gasped as the demon climbed on top of him and tilted his neck to reverently kiss and lick at his pulse, his hips bucking up off the bed when sharpened teeth replaced the tongue and took a playful nip.

“Not that I really know how this works, but I think its time we got rid of some of these clothes” Aziraphale gasped out, reaching for Crowley's shirt and making quick work of pulling it over his head.  
  
Crowley's own sexual experience was not something that the pair had ever officially discussed, but Aziraphale knew for a fact that he was far from his first.  
  
There had been enough drunken slips of the demon's tongue to prove that.  
  
Aziraphale was glad of it-at least this way one of them had a clue what they were doing.

The sight of the demon's sculpted bare chest sent a jolt of heat straight to Aziraphale's groin.

Transfixed he reached out and ran a hand down it, jerking away uncertainly at the hiss the demon made when his fingernail scraped a hardened nipple.

Wordlessly Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's hand and guided it back, moaning out expletives that would have made even the demons of hell blush when Aziraphale instead bent his head and laved at it with his tongue.

Clearly just as desperate to be rid of the excessive fabric separating them Crowley began tugging at Aziraphale's shirt.

Getting the message Aziraphale raised his arms so that Crowley could pull it over his head, only for the demon to rip it off instead, throwing it to the floor before desperately crushing his mouth to his again.

That, Aziraphale thought as he listened to buttons hit the ground, was probably the hottest thing anyone had ever done.

"Right. Now for pants" the demon hissed. 

Very slowly Crowley kissed his way down the angel's chest, pausing to dip his tongue into his navel and grinning at the gasp he received in return.

He stopped when his lips met the light dusting of blond hair that disappeared beneath the angel's trousers, eyeing him.

The man was nervous the demon could tell-despite the fact that he had no need for breathing he was taking so many short, shallow breaths that Crowley couldn't tell where one ended and the next began.

“May I?” he asked, voice husky with desire as he looked into Aziraphale's mesmerising blue eyes, scanning them carefully for consent.

“Oh, yes. Please” Aziraphale nodded, swollen lips turning up into what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Very slowly Crowley undid the angel's pants, eyes never leaving his as he slid down the zipper.

Lifting up off of him for a moment he yanked them down and off Aziraphale's legs to join the growing pile of discarded clothes on the floor, before doing the same with his own. 

“Well hello there. What have we here?” he grinned when the bulge straining against the angel's underwear was revealed, pupils blown wide with desire.

Aziraphale was unable to keep the blush out of his cheeks at the words.

Crowley slid down and began to place teasing kisses on the insides of Aziraphale's thighs, holding them firmly in place as the angel jerked, each one sending shock waves of bliss straight to his core.

“Crowley please, your killing me!” he whined, mouth agape.

The demon chuckled and began to ever so slowly kiss and lick at the outline of Aziraphale's throbbing cock through the material.

Aziraphale cried out, hips bucking upwards.

He needed more. _Now_.

With a signature click of Crowley's fingers suddenly both men were finally sans clothing.

Though the demon could have done so from the beginning that would have been much less fun.

“You truly are a sight to behold, Angel” Crowley whispered, yellow eyes reverently drinking in the angel laying naked and flushed beneath him in the moonlight.

“You aren't so bad your-” Aziraphale began, stopping abruptly with a yelp of surprise when suddenly his aching cock was engulfed in heavenly wet heat.

Keeping his eyes trained on the angel's Crowley began to lower his mouth down onto Aziraphale's length, until he had swallowed it all the way down to the hilt.

That was one advantage of being a supernatural being in a mortal's body- no gag reflex.

Aziraphale cried out his name as he began to bob up and down on his length, hands tangling in Crowley's hair and digging into his scalp, guiding his movements.

He wasn't sure anything had felt this incredible in six thousand years.

After a few moments he could feel pressure building.

“Crowley you better stop that or this is going to be over very quickly.”

The demon grinned, slowly sliding off with a wet pop.

“Well we can't have _that_ , can we?”

Another snap of his fingers and there was a small bottle in his hand.

His expression turned serious when he saw the way Aziraphale was eyeing it.

“Angel we don't have to do this. We can stop right here, just say the word.”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“I trust you Crowley. I want this. I want _you_." 

Crowley nodded, flipping open the cap and rubbing some of the contents between his hands to warm it up.

He moved back up Aziraphale's body and began lazily kissing him in the hope that it would relax him as he gently placed a slick finger against the angel's entrance, leaving it there a moment to get him used to the feeling.

Very slowly he pressed against it until his finger slipped inside, making the angel yelp and go still.

“It's alright Angel, I've got you. Just breathe” he whispered against his lips.

Aziraphale obeyed, and slowly Crowley was able to slide it in the rest of the way.

It burned a little, but the more the demon slid his finger in and out the quicker it turned to pleasure.

Careful not to hurt him Crowley added a second digit alongside the first, crooking his fingers until they found the angel's sweet spot.

“Jesus fucking christ Crowley!” Aziraphale hissed, hips flying up.

Hearing the angel curse made Crowley laugh, and he repeated the motion, hitting his prostate again and again until Aziraphale was a writhing, swearing mess beneath him.

Eventually Crowley removed his fingers, and Aziraphale found himself whimpering at the loss. Crowley slicked himself up and slowly lined the head of his cock up against the angel's entrance.

“Are you ready, Angel? Take a deep breath.”

Aziraphale gulped, and with his intake of breath felt Crowley slide inside. He gasped at the intrusion and the sharp flash of pain, hands gripping the sheets.

“Give it a moment, Angel” Crowley said, teeth bared in restraint as he tried to remain still to let the angel adjust.

Slowly he began to move, sliding all the way down into Aziraphale's heat until their bodies were flush, letting out possibly the dirtiest moan Aziraphale had ever heard.

“Just move already, will you?” Aziraphale groaned out after a moment, desperate for more of this new found bliss.

Crowley slowly began to thrust in and out of the angel, building up into a steady rhythm that had both of them moaning and panting, calling out nonsensical words of praise.

The pleasure that Aziraphale felt as Crowley's impossibly long length pounded into him was so indescribable that it took a moment for him to notice that the demon had stilled and was chuckling.

“What's so funny?” he asked, brows scrunching in confusion.

Crowley pointed to behind the angel's head, and he looked over his shoulder to realise that his wings had come out and extended, spanning half way across the room.

“Sorry, I'll just put them away.”

Crowley shook his head, reaching out to run his fingers along the velvety white feathers.

“No,” he growled, “leave them out. I like it.”

The demon resumed, reaching down between them to stroke Aziraphale's length as he moved, bringing forth a new type of moan from the angel that was digging his nails so hard into Crowley's chest he had drawn blood.

A few more moments was all it took before Aziraphale felt that same delicious pressure once again build within him until he thought he might explode, mouth falling open.

“Crowley, I think I'm going to...”

“Let go for me Angel.”

One more roll of the demon's hips and Aziraphale's orgasm ripped through him, everything going white around him as his release spilled hot and slick between their bodies.  
  
Distantly he registered his wings spasm and send a lamp flying at the wall. 

Crowley's hands threaded with his, the feeling of the angel's body contracting around him triggering his own, and they rode out the waves of sinful pleasure together.  
  
Several windows shattered by themselves, but it was unclear which of them had done it. 

When the world came back into focus Crowley smiled down at Aziraphale and stroked his cheek, the spent angel unable to stop himself from staring back up at him with pure awe.

Aziraphale felt happier and more at peace than he had in centuries.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him.

“Crowley you need to know something. The whole cuddle therapy thing was made up. I never took that job, and that client was just a customer. I simply wanted to make you jealous, to make you want me. But I should never have lied to you like that. Can you forgive me?” he pleaded softly, face ashen.

Crowley was silent for an agonizing moment, a war seemingly raging behind his eyes.

“Angel I'm a little upset, and under any other circumstance I'd kick your angelic ass for screwing with me like that, but I honestly don't think we would be here right now if you hadn't. Perhaps this would have happened eventually, but the fact that you put so much effort into speeding things up is actually quite...hot” he smirked, ruffling Aziraphale's blonde curls.

The angel felt relief wash over him.

“Well thank you Crowley. For both the forgiveness and not kicking my ass.”

“Angel promise me something” Crowley whispered a moment later, planting a tender kiss on the angel's lips and wrapping his arms around him.

“Anything.”

“Promise me that it'll be just you and me, like this, forever.”

Aziraphale shook his head.

“No Crowley. For a thousand forevers.”

The demon chuckled, resting his forehead against Aziraphale's.

“You have a deal, Angel.”

Aziraphale smiled and nestled his head against Crowley's chest.

“I love you, Anthony J Crowley” he whispered as both men settled into a long, contented sleep.


End file.
